Tea, Vodka and a Burger on the Side
by The UK's Only
Summary: Love doesn't always go how you want it to be. Unfortunately for myself, I found out the hard way. I should have known, really; it was all too clichè to have a happy ending. -Tragedy, please bring tissues...?


Summary: Love doesn't always work out the way you want it to. Unfortunately for myself, I found out the hard way. I should have known, really; it was all too clichè to have a happy ending.

Genre: Romance and Tragedy.

Rating: T.

-x-

I know I don't seem like the kind of person to fall head-over-heels in love easily. To those I know, I'm a snappy, unicorn-loving punk who falls under the 'tsundere' catagory, according to my friend Kiku. Well. I was.

Why, you ask? Ah, that is a rather long story. If you care to read, then sure, I shall tell you. However, if you are an emotional person,

bring tissues. This fairytale isn't going to have a happy ending.

It starts back when I was young, as I remember correctly. Six, was it? Yes, that feels right. When I was six, I met a terribly happy boy called Alfred. I think he was a mere three months younger than I. At first, we didn't get along, you see, but sooner or later, I accepted his request for friendship and we became rather close. In fact, we were close even before that.

Alfred was a rather stereotypical American without the gallons of fat. You know, the bright, sky blue eyes, those muscles to die for. The accent that makes your heart swell, the moves that make you swoon like silly schoolgirls over some boy band. Yeah, he was the whole package. Simply to say, he was devastatingly handsome.

But that's how most tragedies start, right?

I guess I was being just a little foolish, huh. No, that's an understatement. It was overly foolish. Haha. Maybe I'm not as intelligent as I so believe I am.

But then again, I'd be more intelligent than Alfred in any case.

Speaking of which, I should continue, yes?

Okay. Where was I... Aha, I see. So, as we grew together, his body maturing faster than mine, him getting more friends than I could ever, I realised that seriously, he was hot. I started crushing on him, like the idiot I was, and he just carried on. Then, suddenly, he got something I should have expected. He was highly popular, so it was bound to happen. I wasn't even aware of his sexuality back then. He got a girlfriend.

Naturally, I acted uninterested, but really, I envied that mother fucker so much that it burned through my veins like fire. She would get Alfred all to herself. I often saw them kissing, hugging - even making contact made my blood boil. As far as I was concerned, I had known Alfred for too long to have him snatched away by some bitch. Of course, I considered telling him, spilling my heart out, but what good would that do? It's not like he would have listened. He might have even laughed and decided I was pulling his leg. You see, I just didn't have a clue. I tell myself sometimes that if I had done differently, things could be different, but of course. My voice of reason always tells me the truth.

Nothing could have changed the outcome.

So, he got a girlfriend. Her name was Francine, some French (and oh God did that make me mad) lady. I'd heard that she wasn't up for a long relationship - from my sister, she was mates with the bitch before she became Alfred's girlfriend - and therefore passed this onto Alfred himself. He, of course, laughed it off and said I shouldn't have been protecting him so much. I should certainly have not just agreed. That was a stupid decision. Anyways, sometime later, he dumped her. She came crying to my sister, Delilah, who comforted her. My sister, who was the only one I had told about my crush, didn't exactly want to, but I told her to. She didn't seem pleased. Alfred just waved a hand dismissively when I went to check if he was okay. He said he should have listened, and that she was just a stupid slut. Of course, I silently agreed, but only lightly hit the American idiot on the head with a rolled up newspaper.

That was a memorable moment. Still makes me smile, even now.

After that, I decided to take advice. I tried going to a girl called Elizabeta, who was reccommended by my oh so brilliant sister (no really, I loved her so much. She helped a lot.), and she told me that I should go do... Things to Alfred. 'Seduce him'. But of course, I would much rather use a gentle approach, or even let him come to me. I doubted he even liked me back.

So, I went to ask my sister herself. My brothers would have tormented me over it, so I could never trust them. Delilah told me that I should act shy or something. Either that or try to make him like me more, which was an obvious 'yes'. Alas, soon he was with another girl. Another American. She was called Amelia, and if I don't say so myself, had a rather large rack, if you know what I mean. Obviously, it wasn't my thing, but nevermind. Oh, mind you, she didn't have bigger ones than that Ukraine girl. What was she called? Katayusha? Whatever.

For some reason, Amelia seemed to rub it in my face. Everytime I was even spending time with Alfred - time that was, with that bitch with my Alfred, decreasing rapidly -, she would drag him off somewhere, kissing him. The worst thing was that Alfred followed like a fucking bitch.

Much to my own happiness, they broke up quickly. She had decided to go for a Canadian girl - yeah, a girl - and left Alfred. But he already had his eyes on someone else. Someone who I grew to hate so much that my eyes would narrow at the mere thought of. Someone who I grew to hate so much that whenever the fucker was mentioned, I personally wanted to strangle myself with or without a piano wire.

His name was Ivan. He was a Russian mother fucker.

I hated him so much. In this context, hate is a very strong word. And I intend to use it a lot from now on, as I am writing about this son of a bitch who I hate way too much for my own health. So, Alfred went to confront him. However, before he got to, I did something so stupid. So, so stupid. I decided to confess. I can even remember our words:

"Alfred," I had said, before he left my house. I remember how my heart clenched as he smiled that goofy smile back at me.

"Listen," I recall saying, "I-if this doesn't work out, I want you to know..." I had mumbled shyly.

Oh God, the following moments make me want to puke.

"Go on, Artie?" Alfred had urged me on when I paused, his face looking rather serious.

I told him. "I love you. I have for a while. And... I'm here if you need a plan B."

That's all I had said, and he had left instantly.

All through my head, I was cursing myself and that Russian fuck to the deepest depths of Hell - only so that when we died, I could finally get my hands on him in a place where I couldn't be locked up for my actions. Delilah had came to my room. She'd heard my cursing and had came in to offer me tea. I remember that I'd just begged her for a hug, before crying the rest of the night. I wept for so long. So, so long. It hurt.

Alas, the pain wasn't over yet.

After about three weeks, I went back to life. Without Alfred. Delilah was always with me, watching my back. For that, I'm glad. However, it was only a matter of time before I saw that person I hate.

With the person I loved.

And oh, how happy and free they looked.

Delilah had grabbed my arm and dragged me off, saying that I'd have to 'bloody well get over it, lad!' if I were to survive. I thank her so much for that.

I settled down a lot. To be honest, I was searching for someone for myself, even if just to get in Alfred and Ivan's faces. Didn't find anyone, however. So, I decided to just stay single and keep by my sister's side. It would have worked out, had my wounds had enough time to heal. But no. No. They were reopened far too quickly.

I was about to leave the school building, just after I'd finished school. I was late out; I always was, as I often stayed behind to do work for the teachers. So here I was, walking out of the doors, when I saw something that made me freeze.

Ivan was kissing another man. I hadn't heard a thing about a breakup, but I assumed that they had and just decided not to let me know. Of course, that hurt, but I didn't dwell on it. One of Delilah's best pieces of advice for me was not to overthink things, neither dwell on them.

I decided that I should probably ask her about it, to make sure Ivan wasn't doing anything, make sure Alfred and Ivan had broken up. Sure, I had a whole lot of doubt, but jumping to conclusions would have been silly. So I went home and told Delilah, who only stared at me in shock. She had stuttered something, before raising a hand to hover over her mouth, which was opening and closing like a goldfish.

"But he..." she said, anger flaring in her green eyes. "He's with Alfred, right?"

I shrugged. Then, she pulled out her phone and dialled Matthew, Alfred's half-brother. It was on speaker, so I could hear. I remember that conversation almost perfectly.

"Hello?" Matthew asked, I could hear the shyness in his voice.

"Hey, it's Delilah." There was a pause after that. We weren't on good terms with Alfred's friends and family at the moment, so I guess he had a reason.

(A/N: format goes weird here. Please accept it. D:)

"Am I right to believe you have a good reason for calling me?" he pressed, and Delilah frowned before continuing.

"It's rather urgent. Well, you see... It's about Ivan."

Another pause. A long, long pause.

"Let me guess. Arthur?" Matthew seemed a little bit frustrated.

"Listen." Delilah had replied sternly. "We-" she clearly said 'we' because it would be more convincing for him to listen, "- saw Ivan kissing another boy."

Matthew seemed to fall silent at that one for about a minute, before murmuring, "No... That... You're pulling my leg."

Delilah sighed heavily. "Matthew, we are only telling you this because we feel you are close to Alfred and could... Help us investigate need more information before we go any further. We can't point fingers right away, love."

There was a sigh from the receiving end, and Matthew agreed. "S-sure."

From then on, me and Matthew weren't exactly friends - more or less just work partners. He didn't trust me, I was sure, but we at least got to work.

Day one was rather disappointing. We got no information, other than the massive clues that Alfred and Ivan were still together. At the end of the day, when me, Delilah and Matthew departed, Alfred turned up tocollect his half-sibling. I remember realising just how much he'd changed, but I had looked away when he glared at me. Matthew seemed to just quietly fall into step behind Alfred, walking off. Ivan joined them, and I caught enough of a frown on the sandy-blond's face to know he, too, was highly suspicious of the Russian.

Day two, in contrast, was much more productive. Yeah, we trailed Ivan like stalkers when he vanished at lunchtime, but we got what we needed.

And even the name of the guy, too.

"Yao! Ivan!" Matthew cried, raising a hand to his mouth in shock. His eyes were wide, and he glanced at us. I frowned sympathetically, before glaring daggers at the duo infront of us. Ivan was the first to look. He only smiled in a rather unsettling way and grabbed a firm hold of Yao's hand. I felt sick. I hated the fucker, I really did. He took Alfred, he was cheating on him, and now he was smiling.

Of all things, smiling.

Ivan spoke. "You seem to have caught us, da?"

I wanted to kill him. So much, so so much!

I lunged forward, but Delilah gripped my arm and dragged me back, much like she had earlier. The next thing threw me into a fit of rage.

Ivan leaned down and captured the other's lips again, and I couldn't watch. Matthew had his phone out and was about to take a picture when Yao stopped and pulled back. The Canadian was gutted.

The Chinese boy and the Russian bitch walked off, leaving us standing there. Matthew turned to me, tears in his eyes. I remember how the realisation seemed to sink in slowly.

"I am so sorry for doubting you both." He turned to Delilah, then back to me. "Alfred has to know."

I certainly agreed. But how would we tell him? Obviously, that was the thing on all our minds, as Delilah put her hands on her hips. She was shaken too.

"Matthew," she began hesitantly, "We need you to help us here. The guy won't listen to me, nevermind Arthur. At least, not on our own."

Aforementioned boy nodded. The bell rang, and we said our quiet

goodbyes before returning to class.

I only had one lesson shared with Alfred, and that was Design and

Technology. It made my hands curl into fists when I saw him waltz in,

Ivan at his side. The bastard said goodbye before kissing my Alfred and leaving. Oh God, how it still hurt...

After school, I caught Matthew beckoning me over. Delilah was with him. I realised it was now that they wanted to tell Alfred - I suddenly grew seriously nervous. Scared. I'd never seen Alfred angry before, and after watching countless old romance movies, I knew that anger was a popular reaction.

Matthew went off to find Alfred, and I was left with Delilah. We stood there, silent. She held my hand reassuringly, and I felt slightly safer.

Within minutes, Matthew returned. As soon as Alfred caught sight of us, I noted a look of pain in his eyes when he looked at me. I didn't know why; Matthew obviously hadn't told him yet. Was it because we used to

be such good friends? Known eachother since we were six? Fuck, looking back now, I still don't know. But what I do know... Is that he looked

like he wanted to walk away.

Matthew stood beside me, and he began to speak. "Alfred," he said, "we need you to listen."

The other stubbornly nodded, and stared stonily at his brother. "What." he snarled, and I instantly grew uncomfortable.

Alfred didn't snarl. That wasn't the boy I knew.

Then again, the boy I knew wouldn't break someone's heart.

"Arthur, Delilah and me..." Matthew mumbled, looking at me for

assistance. I nodded in a reassuring way. "We saw something that we

think you should know about. It's Ivan."

At this, Alfred's expression darkened. "What do you want to say? He's

not good for me? I'm an idiot to be with him?" He glared in my

direction, and I felt rather sick.

"No, Alfred." Delilah said sternly, "Well, sort of. Truth is, we saw

him with Yao. Matthew was too late with his camera to get footage."

Alfred snorted. "Go ahead and try, but he's not like that. And anyway, what do you mean by 'with Yao'? He can hang out with friends if he

wants!"

I decided to look up and speak. "Fuck, Alfred, don't act dumb. You know what we mean. He kissed the bastard." I hissed, "And you should know me, Alfred, I do not lie."

He took a step forward, but I stood my ground. "I don't know what kind of sick game this is, but I'm not going along with it. Mattie, come on, these bitches are poisoning you."

Matthew seemed torn. I saw him stiffen, but then Alfred pulled him by

the arm and dragged him off. I closed my eyes tightly and frowned.

Without that evidence, we weren't going anywhere.

So, then came along Day three of our investigation. We all had cameras; Matthew's was pretty new and strapped around his neck, a Canadian flag on the back. Mine was... Well, Alfred bought me it for my eleventh

birthday. I still have it, actually. It too had a flag on it, however

it was smaller, and the English one. Delilah's was simple. A little

black one, but it was rather good quality.

Ivan seemed to be avoiding us, as if he knew of our plan, though we

still found him. This time, they were in the midst of a large group of people. A pathetic attempt at hiding, I do say. We got our cameras

ready. I remember how my heart beated so fast, so hard. I guess it was because I might have a chance to save Alfred, even if he hated my guts. Which he likely did. But I could hopefully save him, right? With this

evidence, he won't have to be so stupid anymore. Seeing was believing

with Alfred, you see.

Matthew didn't look too pleased when we met up with him that day, to be honest. His face seemed to look rather tired. When me and mysister

questioned him, he told us it was fine. Looking back now, it was

probably because he and Alfred had an argument over it or something;

come to think of it, he didn't even come to school with his

half-brother.

We were in position, and I was shaking with anticipation. And then I

got it. That one picture of that bastard with his bloody tongue down

Yao's throat. For good measure, I took two. Then a third. Beside me,

Delilah seemed to feel rather pumped up about getting it. She probably knew how much I wanted to save my old friend.

"Oi, boys!" she had yelled, causing others to stare. "You've been

caught three times now!"

I remember just staring at the picture angrily. He sure did know how to make my blood boil, huh?

Alfred was popular. Everyone knew him, and he knew everyone. Well,

almost. He didn't appear to know me as well as he likely thought he

did, if he thought we were playing a 'sick game'. I'd never lied to

him, to be honest. Whenever I was to leave for something, I would

always return. If I told him I would make something up to him, I would. How could he throw all that away for some commie bastard? Especially one who cheated on was rather in a rush, I saw, as she grabbed mine and Matthew's hands harshly and tugged us away. You would think it would all be okay now we had the pictures, right?

Silly.

Yes, we saw Alfred standing with some guys, but I felt that weshouldn't tell him yet. I told the others to wait, and they lookedconfused. I remember what I had said:

"No, not yet. I want to test if he really knows me. See if he'sactually not a complete idiot."

They'd looked puzzled and eager to just go, but I continued.

"If he doesn't believe me, we use the evidence. I don't think he willanyway, but that will prove if we can ever be friends again. Ever."

At this, they both nodded. With my head held high, I gulped, passed my camera to Delilah and walked over. I was shaking like fuck. I called his name rather quietly, and he stared at me, an uninterested expression on his face. My gaze wavered, but I was brave enough to request we talk in private, and he was good enough to say yes.

Once we got away from the crowd, I began in a low voice.

"Hear me out, Alfred."

He stared at me, his gaze slightly unsettling.

"Ivan's no good for you." His expression darkened here. "You shouldknow that. Had we still been friends, would you have not listened still?"

Now he seemed fuming. And was that... Hurt? I wasn't lying. I should have been the one who was hurt. Not him. God, he should have believed me, then the following would never have happened.

"Arthur, when you confessed, I felt confused. I left. I didn't know what to do." he began, and I didn't know why he was bringing it up. "I may have hurt you, but I love Ivan. Can you not just forget and leave us alone?"

He still thought I was lying. "Leave you alone? Alfred, I know what it's like to be broken hearted. Cry for days on end. Weeks. Not be able to leave your room, to eat, sleep, do anything normal. I am merely saving you from that."

"Shut up, Arthur!" He had stepped close to me at this point, anger

flaring in his eyes. I shook my head and stood still.

"He was kissing another man. Alfred, li-"

I hadn't got to finish as he interrupted me.

"No! Arthur, you're just jealous! I didn't think you could ever be like this. You don't want to save me, you just want me for yourself. I don't even want to be your friend! I'm ashamed that I ever did. You mean nothing to me. You may as well be dead."

I froze. To be honest, I thought I was dying. Everything around me was growing dark, and my insides felt as if they were grinding against one another, churning within me. It hurt a whole lot to hear him say that. Fuck, it did. As if someone had cut me open, as if I was bleeding out onto the floor.

By now, there was a crowd. I heard rushed footsteps and caught a glimpse of Matthew and Delilah. They didn't seem pleased.

Alfred continued. "I never want to see you again, Arthur. Fuck you. And your little sister. You're both sick and twisted to make up such things!"

"You're blind, Alfred, you really are!" I had wailed, not caring who saw. "Do you really think I would make that up? Answer me honestly!"

"Yes!" he had screamed, before storming off. People began murmuring things, and I fell onto my knees. My sister and Alfred's half-brother came to my sides.

"The proof, Arthur." Delilah said quietly, pointing to her camera.

I stared forward. If my heart wasn't broken before, it truly was now. How could he say such things? He truly was blind. If the guy should have been with anyone, it should have been me. Now, you see, I was getting angry. No, I was getting really angry. So angry that I felt hatred toward the boy I once thought I loved. Screw the proof. He could find out himself.

Delilah was about to shake me before I voiced my thoughts.

"That's it. No more saving him. Fuck the photos, fuck him and fuck everything. He can find out who Ivan truly is himself, and then when he comes crying back to me, heartbroken and guilty, I won't be here. The bastard doesn't deserve me." Matthew looked taken aback by my words, but Delilah nodded and helf her head down.

We headed straight home. Didn't go to school for the rest of the day, me and Delilah. Matthew, too. They really cared about me. It was also that day that I realised they cared about eachother. I felt rather guilty that I hadn't noticed it between all the things going on in my life, but I could tell that they were falling in love. And I was happy for them. Of course, a bit jealous too, but I didn't care about love anymore at that point. It was all just a game to me.

About three weeks passed before it all happened. By that time, I'd requested to be moved to a different school, and my Mum had obliged, seeing my current state. And by 'it', I mean the truth coming out. I had even been there myself. I'd gone to school to say goodbye to my few friends, as they probably would want to know I was going. At that point in time, I was seventeen. Yeah, I'd been out drinking once or twice with a friend of mine, Gilbert, but I was still a kid. It all felt too adult-like for me...

Right. So, I was heading toward detention to find aforementioned East German when I heard a rather loud, and rather familiar, shout. I froze in my tracks and turned to the side. I walked over to the rather large crowd of people, and Delilah grabbed my arm and pulled me to the front.

There, in the middle, was Alfred, Ivan and Yao. I didn't need an explanation; it was all too clear for me. Ivan was smiling eerily, and Yao looked like he was going to piss his pants. Alfred looked upset, torn, angry, broken hearted -

and I couldn't bring myself to care.

I just looked at them, an uninterested expression on my face. I barely listened to the dialogue, but I can still remember it.

"Ivan, how could you?" Alfred asked, a tear now falling down his reddened cheek. "Why?"

Ivan smiled. "You should have known, da? Did your little friends not tell you?" he sneered, holding Yao's hand tightly. At this, Alfred turned his head to me and Delilah. Matthew was standing beside us.

I saw his eyes flash when he did look at us. Especially me. I rather angrily turned on my heel and began walking away. Something inside me still cared, even then. But I didn't stop when I heard hasty footsteps behind me. No. Because I was stronger than that, right? He couldn't hurt me anymore. Not now. I didn't care anymore, right? I felt a large hand grab my shoulder and was pulled to face a tearful Alfred. I forced myself to stay calm.

"A-Arthur!" I remember him saying, his blue eyes clouded with misery, pain, guilt... Horrid emotions. "I'm so, so sorry!"

I turned and continued walking, but he grabbed me again. "Please! I... I didn't know...!"

And oh God, how it hurt. To turn him down, to not forgive him. But I guess I was growing numb at this point. Numb from heartbreak.

"No, Alfred. You did know." I said coolly. "We told you. All you had to do is know me. Know me like you did back then."

He obviously understood what was happening.

"I'll do anything, Arthur!" I shook my head. By this time, Delilah and Matthew were behind him. They looked miserable, too.

I grabbed his hand firmly and pulled it off my shoulder. The last words I said to him were:

"You'll never see me again."

So, I guess that's it. Oh, an epilogue? I don't do that. I would rather leave the rest unknown. But all that I can say is that right now, I'm a broken man. Sixty four, still with the same messy blond hair, wonderful older sister and her husband, Matthew. I don't think I'm too far off from dying, but I know that Alfred will be the same age as me by now, if not, three months younger. He still is in contact with Matthew, but I kept to my words. He has never seen, nor heard from me since that day. I'll forever love him, but I had to let him go.

-x-


End file.
